


going back to the start

by clayisforgirls



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Depression, Getting Together, M/M, post retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clayisforgirls/pseuds/clayisforgirls
Summary: There’s still been a near endless stream of drinks and dinners with his now-former teammates, and there’s definitely been evenings where it’s been easy to slip back into his captain role.But thanks to a shoulder that wouldn’t heal, he’d hung up his skates at the end of last season. And ever since then, there’s been a hockey shaped hole in his life he hasn’t quite known how to fill.





	going back to the start

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the dialogue prompt: “It’s not what it looks like…”

It’s strange not to be attending the annual Blackhawks pre-season team party.

It’s not that Jonny hadn’t been invited to the party. More than one of the guys had asked if he was going to be there—Kaner too—but they’d both declined. When Jonny was captain, it was always _team only_ , no coaches or trainers or management. They’d used the time to bond, to feel out the new guys before they were thrown together at training camp, and he hadn’t wanted to change that.

The fact that he’d played with almost everyone at the team party had been irrelevant, because it’s not his team anymore. Some days it’s hard to remember that, especially right before the season when everyone’s back in town. There’s still been a near endless stream of drinks and dinners with his now-former teammates, and there’s definitely been evenings where it’s been easy to slip back into his captain role.

But thanks to a shoulder that wouldn’t heal, he’d hung up his skates at the end of last season. And ever since then, there’s been a hockey shaped hole in his life he hasn’t quite known how to fill.

He’s broken out of his thoughts by someone pressing an ice cold bottle against the back of his neck, and it makes Jonny help in shock. Realistically, he knows it’s Kaner, and he’s already laughing by the time Jonny turns around.

Jonny snatches the bottle out of his hand as punishment, and takes a drink before Kaner can protest.

“You need to turn that frown upside down, Coach Serious,” Kaner says, still grinning. Jonny narrows his eyes at Kaner, and it just makes Kaner laugh more.

“Assistant coach,” he corrects Kaner. Kaner seems unconcerned by this, probably because Kaner thinks that Jonny’s going to be a ‘badass motherfucker’ as a coach. “And jesus, stop with that nickname already.”

“Too late. The Trib is way ahead of me.”

“Fucking Lazerus,” Jonny mutters under his breath. Because that name _really_ needs to die. He’s not even serious anymore. Most of the time.

“Seriously,” Kaner says, taking a moment to snicker because he used seriously in a sentence. Jonny rolls his eyes. “You okay though? Because you’ve been mope-central for the last few weeks, and it’s really fucking sucked.”

“I’m fine,” Jonny says, even though he’s not. He hasn’t been the same since prospect camp, when the smell of the ice and the scrape of the blades had taken him back to rookie year, and he’d wanted to be out there with them more than anything.

Instead he’d taken notes on skill and chemistry and work ethic, and figured out which of them should be attending training camp. The ones who had made it to the big show had been thrilled, but he’d felt guilty every time he’d had to crush one of their dreams, every time he’d had to say ‘maybe next year’, and had to watch the smile fall from their faces.

It had made him question if he’d truly wanted to coach, or whether he’d just accepted the job to try and fill the void that hockey had left.

Jonny still isn’t sure of the answer.

“Earth to Tazer,” Kaner says, waving his hand in front of Jonny’s face. Jonny blinks slowly, and Kaner’s expression slides into concerned. “And just fyi, I’m not buying this ‘I’m fine’ crap. Because I know it fucking sucks, okay? You’re not the only one that wants to be over there.”

Because—yeah. That’s why Kaner’s here tonight. Except Kaner’s going to college now, taking business classes, and seemingly having the time of his life. Kaner’s had a perma-grin since he skated his last lap on home ice, talking about how thrilled he is to have the opportunity to go back to college and chirping Jonny that he’s going to get a real degree at every possible opportunity.

And Kaner’s smart. Jonny doesn’t doubt that whatever degree Kaner ends up with will be better than his Associates in General Studies.

But—maybe Kaner’s not as happy as Jonny thought. It just makes him feel _more_ guilty; Kaner clearly knows there’s something wrong with him, and he’s been too self absorbed to see that Kaner’s grin is just a mask. Jonny knows that sometimes it’s easier to fake a smile than to answer questions about a frown.

“It’s not what it looks like…” Jonny starts. Kaner raises an eyebrow. “I just—I really miss it.”

Kaner reaches out, tangles their fingers together, and squeezes gently. It’s a little weird—they’ve never been physically affectionate off the ice—but Jonny appreciates the gesture.

“You think I don’t miss hockey?” Kaner says softly. “Shit Jon, there’s nothing I want to be doing _more_ than playing hockey.”

“But you—”

“Fake it til you make it,” Kaner says, shrugging. “One of us had to be well adjusted, and it was never gonna be you. Look, I like college. It’s fun. But it doesn’t compare to stepping out on the ice and seeing twenty thousand people cheering for you. Hockey’s in our blood, you know? It’s gonna take time. It’s like—when you break up with someone, you don’t forget about them right away. It’s fucking painful at first but—but it gets better.”

“Did you just compare hockey to a break up?”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Jonny _can’t_ , because like always, Kaner knows him better than anyone else.

“You don’t need to look so smug about it,” Jonny says grouchily. He _hates_ admitting that Kaner has a point.

“I’ll stop if you admit I’m right,” Kaner says, the perma-grin back on his face. But this time his cheeks are dimples and his eyes are bright, and Jonny knows that at least in this moment, Kaner is _truly_ happy. Jonny finds himself grinning back, because Kaner’s grin is more than a little infectious.

“You’ve never been right,” Jonny says, but the words are muffled by Kaner’s mouth pressed against his own.

It takes a few seconds for Jonny’s brain to catch up with the fact that _Patrick Kane is kissing him_ , but once it does, he can’t do anything but kiss Kaner back. The scratch of stubble against his skin is strange, a constant reminder that it’s a man he’s kissing, but it doesn’t stop him from surrendering to the warmth of Kaner’s mouth.

Kissing Kaner is a little bit like a rollercoaster; one second he’s demanding and needy, the next he’s happy to accept soft, almost chaste kisses, but it keeps Jonny on his toes. He tangles his fingers into Kaner’s curls, tilting his head until the angle’s _perfect_ , and if it means that Kaner has to keep kissing him, then it’s just an added bonus.

It’s Kaner who pulls away, sucking in a breath before he looks back at Jonny. His lips are swollen, his hair more of a mess than normal, but it’s like a switch has flicked in Jonny’s brain, and he can’t unsee the beautiful guy who just kissed him.

Except—

“Is this some kind of hockey-rebound?” is the first thing that falls out of Jonny’s mouth. He sees the hurt flash across Kaner’s face, quickly replaced by a blank expression, and Jonny feels a stab of guilt.

“Not unless you want it to be,” Kaner says, his tone giving away nothing.

Jonny doesn’t.

Because when Jonny thinks about the last four months, all of the best parts have been Kaner. Kaner’s been at Jonny’s side when Jonny wanted him to be. Kaner answered the phone at three am when Jonny called. Kaner sat on his couch and played Mario Kart for hours because neither of them wanted to admit they needed something to fill their time with. Kaner arranged golf days for them, cooked for him, made plans for them—

Kaner’s been here the whole time, and Jonny’s been so focused on his own misery that he hasn’t seen it.

“I don’t,” Jonny says. It makes Kaner smile again, the _real_ smile, not the perma-grin that Jonny’s seen so much of this summer. “You?”

“Jesus, Toews, if you want me to spell it out then I will, but—”

Jonny swallows Kaner’s words, because he doesn’t need it spelled out. Not when when he can feel Kaner smile like they just won the Cup.

Jonny knows this isn’t going to fix him. Kissing Kaner isn’t going to be a magical solution to making his life better.

But, as the first thing he’s really enjoyed doing in the last four months, it’s a good place to start.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "The Scientist" by Coldplay. (If you haven't listened to the Aimee Mann version, YOU SHOULD. It's gorgeous.)


End file.
